


Through His Eyes

by Stolenjackets



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blind!Keith, Death, Fluff, High School AU, Homophobia Warning, M/M, No Smut, Oh no shiro disappeared again, There’s so much cursing I’m sorry I have a problem, blind, car crash described, cursing, hard pinning, keith is so angry???, klance, no shiro, pinning, use of a degrading term for gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-02-15 01:28:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13020378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stolenjackets/pseuds/Stolenjackets
Summary: Mysterious new boy Keith has Lance wrapped around his finger. His bad boy looks and don’t-give-a-damn attitude have Lance hooked, and even if he didn’t like him, he’s stuck with him because Keith needs him, and not a romantic way. Keith is blind.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> If anything to do with blindness or how it happens don’t hesitate to tell me, or make a vine reference;;)) anyways

"Lance to the front office, Lance to the front office" the over head speakers crackled. 

"Well my dudes, I gotta jet, catch ya on the flip side" Lance always used odd lingo to say goodbye to his friends Hunk and Pidge. He only did it to annoy Pidge and it always worked. Hunk chuckled and waved and Pidge just rolled her eyes. 

"See you after school still?" Hunk called out as Lance left the cafeteria. 

"Absolutely!" Lance yelled before letting the door slam shut.  
He dropped his smile and let out a tired sigh. What could you expect from a sleepless teen?

He shuffled through the hall and down the stairs, counting his steps till he reached the front entrance. 

'107, that's gotta be a new record' he thought before opening the door. 

Ma. Janice sat behind her desk, same as always, typing away at what students figured was an erotic fantasy of hers. 

9 seconds passed before she looked up. 

"Oh Lance! There you are!" She said, clapping her hands together, "We have a new student coming today, they should be here any second, and you'll help him through his school days, he's a special needs student and you were the most referred student from the teachers. You're a very friendly person we've noticed and figured you'd be best." She rambled in a sugary grandma voice, even though she was only in her late 30's. 

"I think that's him!" She said pointing to a black pickup truck pulling in. 

Lance counted the seconds, first the seconds it took for the brake lights to turn off, (4 seconds), then for the student to get out, ( 5 seconds after the lights went out,) and finally how long it took for him to get into the office (16 seconds).  In those 16 seconds, Lance noticed several things. 

First of all, this kid had a raven colored mullet. 'A motherfucking mullet' he pondered what on earth this kid could possibly be thinking. Second, he was wearing some weird-ass shades. Third, this kids dad was walking with him, 'what is this? The first day of kindergarten?' He joked to himself. And fourth, Lance totally had a crush on him. 

"Lance, meet Keith, Keith, Lance. Lance he has all class periods with him and he'll explain what he needs you to do on your way to your class now, here are tardy slips, so hurry along now, don't be later than you have to be!" She said. 'Eager to be alone with Keith's rugged looking dad' Lance presumed. 

Lance held the door open and smiled, "After you" he said in a flirtatious voice, but his smile faltered when he noticed one final thing: Keith was blind.  
____________

"So, I'm Lance, um..." he bit his lip thinking, "what can I do for ya? Er.. what am I going to be doing for you?"

"Reading for me, stuff like test and directions, guiding me to and from classes, and describing lunch options" straight to the point, no chitchat. 

"We're going to math, currently learning-"

"I'll find out" Keith cut him off, not wanting to hold a conversation. 

Lance thankfully took the hint and fell silent, counting the number of times Keith's guide cane hit the floor.  
____________

By the time the last bell rang Lance was exhausted and not up to hanging out later. But he couldn't flake, he had to gossip about he's new crush, a tradition. 

"Um? Lance?" Keith called into the crowd, "Still need help getting to the buses."

"Fuck" Lance muttered and turned to guide Keith to the long lines. 

"What bus number?" Lances agitated question made Keith want to scream. 

"7"

It took a while but eventually Lance was in his own hand-me-down car. 

He placed his hands and forehead on the steering wheel, counting to 342 before a hand slammed on the side window. Without looking up Lance reached over and unlocked the door. 

"You know it's dangerous to sit in a car without turning it on for so long, right?" His younger sister, Mia, warned.

"Yeah, in the summer, when its hot, not in autumn when it's nice and chilly" he said turning on the car and driving out of the parking lot. His mother and father homeschooled the other kids, and would continue to do so until the reached middle school, so he didn't have to worry about picking them up for a while. 

Mia turned on the radio and flipped through channels before settling on a song and turning the volume up as far as Lance would let her, 24. 

He couldn't explain he obsession with numbers, but he'd had it as long as he could count, according to his parents. 

"So.." Lance could tell Mia was about to be nosy from the way her voice dropped to a slightly lower tone, "anything, new?" She said the last word sharply, trying to pierce through Lance's stalling. 

"Nope, and if you push I'll drop you off blasting Brittany Spears for the next week" he threatened. 

Mia crossed her arms and slammed back into her seat with a huff of annoyance. 

After a short 7 and a half minute drive Mia was home and Lance was off to some cafe downtown. 

He walked in, ordered his usual and sat in the corner booth, doing homework and tapping his foot slowly to measure time. 

After half an hour Pidge and Hunk walked at the exact time as every day, ordered the exact same thing as they always did and sat down in the same places as they did every other week day. 

"So? Who's the new kid?" Hunk questioned immediately, "And how long did it take you to get a crush on him?" Pidge added, already knowing where this conversation was going. 

"His name is Keith and 16 seconds to get a crush on his looks, and 4 hours 12 minutes counting to get a crush on his personality"

Pidge whistle, "How the hell do you keep up with that shit?" Lance just shrugged and began to go into detail about Keith's looks. 

"Hold on buddy, take it slow, and start over please, I'm not catching any of this" Hunk thankfully stopped him. 

Lance took a deep breath and started again, "He has this weird purple toned black hair, it's a mullet but maybe not for long? He's pasty af and shorter than me but taller than Pidge, probably around 5'5, he always frowns and didn't talk about anything except school work."

"What about his eyes?" Hunk asked, knowing Lance to be notoriously obsessed with eyes and finger prints. 

"Hunk.. buddy.. my man.. he's blind and wears shades, I've never seen them, but I will one day" Lance had set his goal, he had 3 weeks, 4 days, 8 hours, and 20 minutes to find out what color Keith's eyes were. 

"Time and date?" Pidge sighed, opening a text book and pulling the cap of her green highlighter off with her teeth.

"November 14, 12:43 a.m., which is a Sunday" Lance never skipped a beat. 

"Godspeed" Pidge said in all seriousness.  
____________

The talked for another 27 minutes before Lance headed home, right on schedule as always. 

He placed his oversized hoodie on his designated hook and wondered into the kitchen, lured by the smell of spices. 

"Whatch cooking momma?" Lance asked, leaning over to rest his chin on her shoulders, an old habit he couldn't seem to give up. She lifted a hand and patted his face tenderly, answering in a voice just as tender, "spaghetti, it'll be ready in 10, okay? Okay."

Lance lifted his head and staggered off to his bedroom, throwing his backpack near his desk and collapsing on his bed. 

He curled onto his side and fought sleep with images of Keith, trying to imagine his eyes. As he lay there trading eye shapes and colors he felt himself drifting and sat up to stop the sinking feeling that threatened to envelop him in its warm embrace. 

"Dinner!" His mother called to the house and its inhabitants. 

Lance hurried down the stairs, ignoring the family photos and racing to the kitchen, ready to eat, think, sleep. As always with his mothers cooking he couldn't just scarf it all down, his taste buds wouldn't allow it. Even after years and years of it, it never seemed the same, but was always delicious. 

Hardly anyone talked during dinner, lunches and breakfasts were always chaos but by dinner everyone was tired and too busy to multitask, except of course the dog, who would nudge people's feet in an attempt to get early table scraps. 

45 minutes, 1 skin-care routine, and 2 arguments later he was in bed. He was laying with his back against the wall and everything but his left foot covered with his thick blue blanket. His thoughts filled with Keith as he drifted into a blissfully empty sleep.  
____________

Lance woke up at 2:27 a.m. to his phone buzzing ever other minute. 

He flipped it over and turned on the screen, momentarily blinded in his dreamlike stupor. 

"What the hell?" He muttered. It was a bunch of gibberish text from an unknown number, and every once and awhile a call. 

As he stared intently at the messages, trying to make any sense of them the number called him. 

"Lance? It's Keith, from school"

"Why the heck are you calling me at 2:30 in the morning?" Lance's irritation was very evident in his tone. 

"I need help."

"I need to know how you got my phone number." 

"Lance please its an emergency, I'll explain when you get here."

Lace sighed and counts to 12. 

"Where are you?"  
____________

Getting dressed in 13 minutes, taking 7 minutes to carefully climb out the window, onto the roof, and shimmy down the side of the house, (he did this a lot) he started the jog to Pam's, a mom and pops restaurant 17 minutes from his house if he walked. Why the hell and how the hell Keith was there he said he'd explain, but he needed Lance to haul-ass. And that exactly what Lance did, getting there in record time, taking only 9.5 minutes to get there. 

As he stood outside the quaint 24/7 dinner he watched as Keith sighed and tapped his fingers impatiently on the thick plastic. The over head light made him look like a criminal, waiting for investigation, and the way he had his shoulders hunched made it seem like he had something hidden within his jacket. It crossed his mind that Keith was crazy, hiding a gun, and going to kill him in front of the poor bar tender. 

"Well, guess I better find out" Lance muttered to himself, opening the door. 

"This better be good Kogane, or I swear to god you'll be seeing him soon" Lance threatened. 

"My dad kicked me out."

"Oh shit."

Silence. 

'What type of sick bastard kicks out his blind son?' Lance thinks. 

"A drunk, homophobic one" Keith answered Lance's accidentally spoken thought. 

"Shit man, you need a place to stay?"

"Nah," Keith started sarcastically, "just thought I'd call my best bud and let him know. Of course I need a place to stay!"

"Jesus, a simple yes would suffice."  
____________

The walk home was long and awkward.  
After a minute of silence Lance began asking the questions that had been building in his mind since the phone call, approximately 35 minutes ago. 

"How did you get my number?" 

"I talked to that kid, Pidge, in class when you dozed off and she gave me her number and I got your number through a phone call with her"

"How did you get to Pam's and why did you go to Pam's?"

"It was the closest public place my dad could drop me off and probably the only one still open"

"Oh... why me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you have me meet you here?"

"Pidge couldn't come and I don't know anyone else"

"Oh" 

'Last resort, same as with everyone else.' Lance thought, then in a weak attempt to defend himself from himself though, 'so what? That'll change as Keith gets to know you better'. 

He knew it was a lie.  
____________

Lance fell asleep on the couch and let Keith take his bed. 

"Make yourself at home, if you need anything, call me until I come up stairs" Lance sighed, ready to get back to his beauty sleep, dreading the night on the couch. 

"Mkay" Keith muttered in a sleepy voice that made his heart ache. 

"Lo-" Lance slipped a hand over his mouth, forcing hot words down his throat and into his stomach where they caused a ruckus. 

Thankfully Keith was out cold and didn't hear Lance's almost fuck-up. 

Lance quietly raced down the stairs, skipping every other step. 

When he finally reached the couch he throw himself down and entangled his body with the soft blanket, counting himself into the oblivion know as sleep.  
____________

Lance woke again at 3:30, to the same noise as before and groaned before rolling off the couch. 

He trudged up the stairs and opened the door to his bedroom. 

"What is it this time mullet?"

"I had a bad dream that's really more of a memory." Keith seemed embarrassed, and almost immediately after started sputtering apologies and telling Lance to go back to bed. 

"No no," Lance cut him off in the middle of another 'It's nothing', "I'm intrigued so now you have to tell me."

Keith bit his lip and told Lance to sit. 

"It's a long story... are you sure?"

"Positive" Lance said, sitting like he had as a first grader. 

Keith took a deep breath, then another. 

"Last summer, my mom and I were in a car accident. She had been getting onto me about some stupid shit I had done and she took her eyes off the rode for a second too long. 

"I passed out and when I woke up, she was dying. Her last words were 'I lov-' before she choked to death on her own blood and puke. And that was the last thing I ever saw, gasoline and glass ruining my eyes. It felt like I had been sobbing for hours before someone got me out of the wreckage. 

"By the time we got to the hospital it was too late to save my eyes. They offered to have my mothers eyes replace mine, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't look in the mirror everyday and see her eyes, they would hurt me more than help me, so I stayed blind. 

"But it's different in my dreams. In my dreams the crash is the same, but when I wake up after passing out my mom isn't saying I love you, she's saying it's all my fault. That she should have gotten an abortion. That she should be alive, not me. 

"And then she stands up, spitting blood and vile at me with every word. It dribbles down her chin like foam does to a rabid dog. 

"She starts screaming, and she's the one who stabs glass in my eyes. She's there, laughing maniacally as she pours gasoline into my eye sockets, mixing it into my tears and flooding my tear ducts with the amber fluid. 

"The dream ends with my father killing me, hating me for living while she died. He doesn't even say anything when he does it. Just walks into my hospital room and covers my head with a pillow. I never fight him." Keith was crying now, it was a tired crying, a final, desperate 'help me' cry. 

Lance wrapped comforting arms around his shoulders and let him lean into him, patting his back to help him breath. Keith slowly grabbed Lance's arm holding it in a death-grip. 

"How often do you have this dream?" Lance questions tentatively.   

"Most nights since the crash"

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Don't leave me"

"Okay" Lance smiled, "easy enough, think you could sleep?"

Keith shook his head fervently. 

"Wanna talk about anything specific?" They were still holding onto each other. 

"What does your room look like?" 

Lance was taken aback, not expecting Keith to really care, but glad that he did. 

"Well... you can't tell-"

"No shit" at this Keith let go of his arm and Lance took that as a sign to lower his own arms.

"Do you want to know what it looks like or not?" Lance leaned back, using his now free, yet oddly empty feeling arms to support his weight.

"It has navy blue walls, and my bed is made of this light honey colored wood, it's against the back corner of the house so I can't hear my siblings hitting stuff on the walls when I nap. I have this black bookshelf covered with paperback books from Walmart and Half-Priced Books. The carpet is a dark grey to hide food stains and my blanket, sheets and pillow case are all white or light grey." 

Lance glanced around the room to be sure he hadn't missed anything when Keith surprised him yet again. 

"What do you look like?" 

He had never considered the fact that Keith didn't know what he looked like. Not that Lance was super shallow and assumed everyone knew about him -that was far from the truth- he had just never been around a blind person before. 

"Well for starters I look like a goddess"

Lance could feel Keith roll his eyes. 

"I actually really don't know how to describe myself.. huh" 

"Can I.. you know.. feel your face?" 

Once again, Keith had shocked Lance into silence.

After Lance had voiced his consent, Keith reached out, searching the air for Lance. After a second Lance lightly grasped Keith's wrist and placed his fingertips on his nose. He closed his eyes and let his hand fall away as he began to count. 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, -Keith's finger tips brushed up his nose to his forehead- 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, -they grazed over the smooth surface before he delicately moved his fingers over his eyelids and brow bone- 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, - he placed both hands on Lances cheeks, pressing gently so his palms touched the soft skin, and for a second Lance's counting stuttered, like his mind was almost waiting for Keith to lean in and consume his soul with a kiss. But Keith moved on, and Lance stopped counting completely as the pads of 3 of Keith's fingers pressed against his lips. The unexpected action cause Lance to let a small gasp escape him before he pressed his lips back together. Keith let 2 of his fingers fall, loosening Lance's lips in the process. With the 1 finger he followed the line to the corner of Lance's mouth, causing a slight burning sensation where he usually gnawed on his lip. The remaining finger slowly dragged up, forming the shape of his lips before moving on to the chin and jawline. After caressing Lance's jawline and lightly grabbing his ear lobe twice he moved his hand into Lance's choppily cut hair, twisting part of it between his fingers. Finally his hand dropped back to his side and Lance opened his eyes. 

"Verdict?" Lance jokingly asked. 

"Your skin is like, flawless, your hair is unbelievably soft, big circular eyes, and a really feminine jawline."

"How did you get all that from touching my face?" Lance was now wide-eyed in awe. Keith just shrugged his shoulders and yawned. 

"What time is it?" Keith yawned again. 

"4:24"

"I'm gonna hit the hay, goodnight"

"G'night" Lance said standing, and though Keith would never admit it, he had wanted to ask Lance to stay, and felt like part of him left when the bed lifted and creaked at the loss of Lance's body weight. 

How had Keith spilled his guts to a stranger, how did Lance have a cute stranger in his bed, and why did time move so quickly for  them?


	2. Chapter 2

Lance woke up the next day and was relieved that it was Saturday. Then he got off the couch and last nights events hi him like a train.

He rushed up the stairs in an attempt to beat his mother to his room, and felt his shoulders fall in defeat as he saw her with her back to his closed door, arms crossed with 1 foot impatiently tapping the beige carpet. 

"Laance-" she started with a voice filled with questions, "whos that boy in your room?" she let some of the vowels draw out, giving Lance time to carefully word his answer.

"It's Keith, my friend, his dad kicked him out and he asked to crash a my place since I'm one of the only people he knows, and the only person who could help him." Lance had decided on the 'wounded kitten' card, making Keith seem more helpless than before.

"Is he a trouble-maker?" she interrogated further.

"How could he be? He's blind." at that she imedeatly dropped her arms and let the hard look leave her face.

"Wake him up and ask if he wants pancakes, then come down stairs to help me cook." 

Lance smiled at his mother's change of heart, and at the thought of pancakes, before he slowly opened his bedroom door.

He gasped lightly at the beautiful display that was Keith sleeping in the sunlight. At some point in the night Keith had removed his shirt and thrown it to the end on the bed. He was laying sprawled out, one arm stretched above his head with the hand against the wall, and one arm across his pale chest. His head was angled back ever so slightly, causing his choppy bangs to hang in the air. 

Lance stood hypnotized for a while before shaking his head and striding over to the bed.

"Keith," he said in the soft voice his mother used to wake him up on lazy days, "wake up buddy." he whispered, placing a hand on Keith's bare shoulder, gently shaking him.

Keith stirred slightly before sitting up like a zombie, rubbing his face and feeling around on Lance's bedside table before putting on his sunglasses, never opening his eyes. 

"Where am I?" Keith asked, voice groggy from sleep.

"My bed, do you want some pancakes?"

Keith nodded his head and asked to take a shower.

After showing Keith the bathroom and where the soaps where he headed down stairs where most of the family was waiting for breakfast. Lance followed his nose to the kitchen and started making more batter for his mother.

Around 12 minutes passed before Keith came shuffling down the stairs, and Thomas, -the second oldest- showed him into the kitchen and sat him down in the breakfast bar, before returning to the living room where everyone else was waiting. Lance stopped cooking and stared at Keith, his wet hair plastered onto his pale forehead, his elbows on the counter, hands on the apposing arm, and one of Lance's old shirts on, and he couldn't help but grin.

"Keith, I'm Lance's mother, Amelia, you can call me anything and your welcome to stay here as long as you need to, but that does mean you'll be following our rules, okay?"

Keith nodded slowly, "Okay, what are the rules?"

"No leaving the house after 11 without permission, be home by 12 if your out with friends on weekends, 10 on school-nights, and treat everyone with respect, and if I tell you to do something you do it, understand?"

"Yes ma'am." 

Lance was silent during the exchange, but never failed to notice when Keith's lips twitched up into a small smile at stuff his mom would say. 

He decided to ask about that later. 

"Hey Keith, want me to show you around town later today?"

Keith is visibly taken aback, but agrees pretty quickly.  
____________

An hour later they were in the old car, and Keith awkwardly cleared his throat. 

"Um.. can we go to my house? I want to grab a few things to, er.. stay, at your house" Keith's bright blush was very visible against his pale complexion. 

"Sure, where do you live"  
____________

7 minutes of arguing and yelling about missed turns later they found themselves in front of a shabby looking house. In the blue light from the morning sun it looked oddly pretty, especially with the grey street and few bare trees. 

Keith took a deep breath and asked if anyone was coming down the street. Lance lead him across and asked if the address was right. 

Keith took a deep breath, grabbed the handle and slowly opened the creaky out door.

"He'll still be knocked out from last nights booze" Keith said in an almost reassuring voice. 

Keith crept through the entry way and straight down the hall, one hand on the wall for directions.

When they passed the only lit up room Lance couldn't help looking in. The same rugged man he saw when Keith first came was knocked out in a lazy-boy. Only instead of looking rugged he just looked shaggy, white tank top stained with god knows what, head tilted down and an empty vodka bottle in his hand. The t.v. was on, showing nothing but static and the countless other bottles surrounding the chair. For a split second Lance was glad Keith couldn't see, he didn't deserve to see his father in such a state. Regret replaced the thought instantly. 

He jerked out of the trance and tiptoed down the hall to the door Keith had disappeared behind. Keith already had 2 suitcases laid on his bed and was stuffing clothes from his closet into 1 of them. 

"Just grab everything and stuff it in that one if it's not clothes."

Lance followed suit without a word, not even registering what he was putting into the junk suit case. After a few minutes he looked around the now barren room. They had gutted it in less time than it took for Lance to get to school. This made him really sad for some reason. 

He took one suit case and lead Keith out the door and to the hall. They froze when they heard a noise from where Keith's dad was. Lance held his breath for a while before he called out. 

"Keith? Is that you?"

"Run" Keith muttered. Lance got behind Keith to keep a hand on his arm as the raced down the hall, it took a second but soon Keith's dad was in their heels, chasing them into the yard. Lance heard and slightly felt one of the empty bottles smashed against the sidewalk and his ankle. 

"Is that your fucking boyfriend you disgust faggot!" the man yelled as they got in the car. They throw the suit cases into the back and rushed down the street.

They drove for half an hour before Lance pulled over to make sure Keith was okay. 

"You good?"

A nod. Then Keith started laughing. Genuinely laughing, a sound so infectious Lance was doubled over in seconds. A minute later Keith's laughter morphed into sobbing. Lance sat not sure what to do. He finally decided on placing a hand gingerly into his shoulder. 

"Hey," he started in a soft voice, "hey it's okay, we're okay, we got out, he can't hurt you anymore"

"He called me- he c-called me a-"

"Don't say it."

"He called me a faggot." This caused a new wave of sobs to rack Keith's body, which in turn forced tears to leak out of Lance. 

"And he called me your boyfriend, see? He's just a stupid old man. Bigoted and a drunkard. "

"He was all I had"

"Not anymore, now you have me, even if I'm not your boyfriend" he joked, Keith gave a weak laugh and took a deep breath, letting his hands drop into his lap. 47 seconds passed. 

"Lets go home."

"Home? But it's your house..."

"Not anymore, not if you want it to be your home too"

A second.   
A smile.   
"I'd like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was shorter but okay


	3. Chapter 3

"That's it! We're definitely going to the mall, you own nothing!" Lance cried in dramatized despair. 

"I'm blind, I don't need much"

"Just 'cause your blind doesn't mean you can't have a good time" Lance raised an eyebrow as he looked at all of Keith's things. There really was close to nothing. He had enough clothes, Lance wasn't worried about that, but he had nothing of sentimental value, that's what he said in any case. 

"Come on! It'll be fun" Lance tore his eyes away from the crude pile.

Once the had reached the house Keith changed out of Lances old shirt -much to Lance's dismay- into a faded, plain black shirt, and had thrown his hair into a small ponytail with turfs of hair escaping in a few places. Lance was glad Keith couldn't see his mile-wide smile and dark red blush. 

Keith sighed and reluctantly agreed, plans of the tour forgotten.  
____________

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Keith groaned, "it's so hard being in such busy places!"

"Well what can I do to help? Hold your hand? Let you hold my elbow? Want to find an emptier store?" Lance asked, voice filled with concern. Someone hit Keith from behind, knocking him down. 

"Watch where your going asshole my friend is blind!" Lance called after the accused. They turned, mouthed sorry, and speed-walked away. 

"You okay man?" Lance asked while lifting him. 

"Yeah, lets just find somewhere quiet."   
When Keith had gotten his balance -thanks the Lance's hand- he didn't let go, instead letting their hands rest at each others sides. Lance waited for Keith to let go and when he didn't, he turned them towards an older looking bookstore and started walking. 

They went slowly, keeping close to each other. Lance counted the number of times Keith would squeeze his hand. It happened a few times, and Lance suspected Keith was the type to excessively click pens and tap his foot relentlessly at formal dinners. 

He got up to 21 before the walked into A Thousand Stories. A charming place more likely to be found in an old styled town than a lively mall such as this one. 

The door opened with a faint bell sound, and people quietly shuffled around, whispering sorry and excuse me, but never more than that. 

"Where are we?" Keith practically breathed the words, tickling Lance's ear with his quiet question. 

"A book store" Lance answered without thinking. He was too busy staring at the smaller teen. 

"Wow.. perfect place for me."

"You like reading?" Lance asked in a voice fogged with daydreams. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Keith said at normal volume, startling Lance and making him flustered with embarrassment. 

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking." Lance hung his head, and Keith felt slightly guilty at the sad puppy dog voice Lance had. 

"It's fine" at this point Keith let out a small chuckle. 

"But really, why are we here?"

"You seem like you liked reading, and I want you to experience it again, at least, hearing the stories. I figured I could read for you, if you want, we could just get audiobooks but I was hoping we could just hang out sometim-" 

"You're rambling" Keith laughed.

"Oh um, sorry..." Lance blushed and let his voice drop back to a whisper, the only appropriate way to talk in a real book store like this, "what type of books do you want to get?"  
____________

They ended up in the science section, reading about stars and far away galaxy. 

"I miss seeing the night sky more than anything." Keith said suddenly. Lance just started at him, silently counting his own breathes. 

"Lance?" 

"I have a plan, do you like any other types of books?"

"I guess.."

A few minutes later they found them self wondering through the horror section pulling any book Lance thought seemed good. After he read the summary Keith would either nod excitedly or shrug almost slyly, at which Lance would eagerly drag him to a near by table. He'd flip to the first page and began to read, his flirtatious voice gone, replaced by voices, booming whispers and flamboyant story telling. They're sometimes get through a dozen pages before Keith could tear his conscious out of the story to decide if the book was worth it. It always was, even if only for a few more hours of Lance's voice. 

And hour in Keith stopped him, "so what's the plan? Why are we over here instead?"

Lance grinned, "it's a surprise for later, don't worry, you can trust me." Keith was surprised to find that he could.   
___

"Okay we have like 20 books now and we've been in here for nearly 2 and a half hours, we should probably move on" Lance suggested. 

"Okay.." Keith replied, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

Once they had checked out they were on their way to the nearest elevator. 

"Oh shit.." Lance said pulling his phone out. He had 17 missed calls from his mom.

"What's wrong? Is.. is someone here?" Keith couldn't stop the panic from rising as he felt phantom fingers gripping his arm. 

"What? No my mom has been trying to call. Hey momma! I'm sorry"

Keith smiled and stifled his giggles as he heard the yelling voice through the phone.

"I'm sorry mom, it won't happen again, yes he's fine, well be home later I told you this morning I don't know when. Mom!" Lance yelled the last word, earning a few snickers from people passing by when he turned bright red. 

"Yes ma'am," he practically whispered, "im sorry, see you soon" he slid his phone in his pocket and rubbed his dry eyes. 

"So what type of stuff are you interested in?" Lance asked into his hand. 

"If we need to go to the house now I understand" Keith couldn't help but smirk.

"Nah it's okay, she said we have another hour to get home." 

"Okay, well um, I don't really have interest, and I think I'd just like to go take a nap, it's been a long day" Keith reached a hand out, grasping for a second before making contact with Lances shoulder, startling the teen almost into a fighting position. Lance let his hands fall and stared at the boy, studying his face, praying for a glimpse at his eyes and trying to see them through the dark shades. It was no use.   
____________

They got home at 6:43 exactly, and Keith had already passed out. 

"Keith," Lance cooed, "come on buddy we're home, keeeith." He gently rested a hand on his friend. Keith rolled to face Lance, still softly breathing, his dark sunglasses fell to his lap, leaving only a few strands of hair to hide his eyes. Lances breath caught, and he tenderly reaches out his hand, brushing away the raven locks. 

"Mom?" Keith whispered, rubbing his eyes and gently reaching out.

"No, um, it's uh it's me, Lance, I'm sorry."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot" Keith couldn't help letting one tear fall, the same way Lance couldn't help pushing it away with his fingers. Keith swallowed hard and got out of the car.

"31 hours and 37 minutes" he muttered before getting out of the car. The time it took for him to admit he really was getting feelings, and bad.  
____________

Lance trudged up the stairs, his arms full with the last load of books, he pushed the door open with his back and almost dropped them all. Keith was sitting on the bed, leaned back on his arms, glasses off, eyes closed, legs swinging. 

"So um, when do you want to start the books?" Lance asked through his blush. 

"Now if you don't mind?" He didn't. 

They read till lunch, then again till dinner. Lance lit a candle to read by and for its semisweet smell. 

He read till 12:49 when Keith fell asleep. Lance fought to stay conscious. He distracted himself by studying Keith's face in the flickering candle light. As gentle as a butterfly he removed Keith's sunglasses and put them on the night table. Before he knew it he was out.

It had only been a few hours when he was woken by a soft shaking and an even softer voice. 

"Lance? Lance please wake up" Lance heard the tears before he saw them. 

"Do you want a hug?" Lance offered awkwardly. Keith didn't notice, nodding jerkily and getting caught in another fit of silent sobs. 

Lance placed his arms under Keith's and slowly stroked his back, sending chills through his spine. Keith sling his arms around lances neck in a second, holding him in a death grip and yet being ever so gentle at the same time. 

When Keith started to calm down Lance started to let go when an almost inaudible whisper stopped him. 

"Please don't let go" more of a breath that a spoken word, but Lance knew what he said, clear as if he had yelled in his ear. Keith let himself melt into the lanky boy's body and Lance stood strong, eyes closed, savoring to moment as well as he knew how. 

"I don't want to go back to sleep," Keith whispered, "I don't want to go back."

"I know, I know." Lance cooed. He thought for a second and decided it was time. 

"Come on" he said, letting his hand drag down and grip Keith's still shaking hand. He dragged him out of the room and down the stairs, careful to not wake anyone.

When they finally made it outside Keith spoke: "why are we out here? It's cold and I still can't you know, see." 

"Hold on I'll grab a blanket" Lance was halfway to the living room before Keith could respond and was probably back in time to hear what it was. 

"Okay lay down here" Lance commanded. 

"Um, why?"

"Do you trust me?" Keith sighed and gently lowered himself to the ground. 

"Okay, I'm going to lay down here-" Lance let himself drop next to Keith, but not close enough to touch, "and I'm going to try and describe the stars for you, remind you of the night sky." Keith bit his cheek, uncertain. 

"Are you sure Lance? That's not exactly the easiest thing in the world, we could just read."

"I want to try, I'll let you see through my eyes."

"...okay I guess"

"So um, we're partly under a tree so it looks like there's cracks in the sky, and the stars are twinkling like only stars can. There's a new moon I think, that's the one with full dark right? Yeah, and then-"

"Lance?" Keith interruption startled Lance, he had forgotten he was doing this for him. 

"Yeah?" 

"Can you, er, is there another blanket?"

"No but I can go-" 

"No please don't go" Keith said sitting up and grasping for lances arm. 

"But you're cold, here I'll come closer if that's fine and maybe that'll help?"

"Okay" Keith blushed, hidden by the darkened sky. He swallowed hard when Lance first brushed against him, first as light as a feather then gradually adding pressure -for more warmth- Keith thought. 

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Yeah but I want to here how you see things not just the stars."

"Why?" Lance was staring again, captivated at the tenderness of Keith's bare arm. It was then he realized Keith's glasses weren't on and his eyes were opened. 

"Never mind, sorry, can we just sit here and not talk?"

"Oh, sorry, yeah yeah that's cool." Lance bit his tongue. Did I do something? He thought. 

They stayed like that for half and hour. Lance straining in the darkness to see his eyes, just a glimpse and he'd be okay. He was so intent on seeing he was inching closer without thinking, breath shaky, heart racing. 

"Lance?" Keith turned his head, unaware of how close he really was. 

Lance tensed up. I could kiss him. He thought, and for a second he thought he would. 

"Yeah?" He wasn't thinking, how could he not move away now Keith knew they were inches from kissing. 

"Can we go back inside?" Or maybe he didn't. 

"Yeah of course" Lance said jumping up. He leaned over to grab Keith's hand and helped him to his feet before recording the blanket. 

"Still not tired?" Lance asked after they made it back to his room. 

"Not really, will you stay in here? Just for tonight?” Keith spoke breathlessly. 

“Of course, anytime.” Lance let a little flirt in his voice but Keith was as blind to that as he was everything else. 

“Thanks, here” he said scooting against the wall. 

Lance froze before gently creeping into the bed and under the covers. They both faced the middle. 

“Lance?” Keith whispered like a friend at a sleep over. 

“Yeah?”

“Um.. what time is it I guess?” 

“Oh, um, 3:33” Lance smiled at the number. 

“Okay, goodnight I guess” and with that he turned on his side and slowed his breathing. Lance knew he was faking but decided not to bother him. 

“Goodnight.” 

It was another 30 minutes before either boy was asleep, Keith thankfully to a deep dreamless sleep and Lance to a dream about Keith he would forget by morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so sorry


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey it’s me your friendly neighborhood idiot, anyways this is probably written different from how I usually write, and I didn’t go through it too intensely. Also I’ve learned a bit more about being blind and I know some stuff I’ve put into this is wrong and one part is for a reason but I’ll fix it all eventually

Lance woke up to sunlight streaming in his window, which was unusual for a Sunday morning. His family had gone to church religiously for as long as he could remember. The one time he could really remember missing church was when he was 12 and had broken his leg and hit his head. The doctors wanted him to stay for 24 hours to make sure the swelling went down, but even then he still had to watch on of the early morning services on tv with his mom.

In fact the only thing that stopped him from falling out of bed in a panic was Keith. They weren’t exactly cuddling, but they weren’t exactly far apart either. Keith wasn’t so close that lance was crosseyed, but only barely, and he had draped his arm across Lance’s waist at some point in the night, and his other arm had some how found itself under Lance’s neck. Their legs were tangled together, and all at once, Lance was overwhelmed but the intensity of it all, he could feel Keith everywhere, on his mind, tickling his neck, and especially in his heart. His breath shallowed and his heart stopped.

He had touched Keith’s face, was still doing it in fact. His hand cupped lazily over his cheeks, his soft, soft cheeks.  
‘What if he wakes up? What would he think of me? There’s no way he feels the same way, and yet how’d he end up like this on accident? Oh Lance, ever the optimist.’  
As all of this happened he found his fingertips moving, not in the way Keith’s had to his face, there was no searching feeling. Just intimacy. And he didn’t care. ‘Let him wake up’ he begged, ‘its so much easier than saying anything.’

  
But Keith had waken up before Lance. Had been up for a while now, frozen, not wanting to lose this feeling. Well, now he was frozen with what was almost fear. Feeing Lance touch him like that... ‘that’s not something friends do.. is it?’ He hoped not.

And then all at once Lance was gone. Keith heard the door quietly shut and he let his breath get ragged. He heard the shower turn on and he let himself cry, and when it turned off, so did his tears. It was an old trick for him, avoiding his dads wrath. His dad had always thought he was a wuss. But their relationship had been improving, they we even going to try trauma therapy if they found a cheapish therapist. Keith thought it was a good time to come out, thought maybe it would be best to do it now.  
And then came the calm before the storm. His father had gone silent, seat down his fork, and pushed away from the table.

  
‘Please,’ Keith had begged him in thought, ‘please go into your bedroom.’  
Of course he didn’t, he’d gone into the sitting room to drink. And drink, and drink. Keith was more worried about his father getting alcohol poisoning than anything, but when he had been jerked out of bed at 1 in the morning he knew he was far worse off than his dad.

There wasn’t a single word the whole ride to where ever. Keith had cried as silent as he could and his father was either to drunk to notice or to sadistic to care. When the truck came to a stop there was nothing. Keith got out and his father pushed him onto the sidewalk, making sure he tripped over the curb before getting into his truck and leaving.

It took a while for Keith to feel his way to the door, and a little while longer to find a booth as far from the door as possible. He waited to call someone, he know how long it took so he wouldn’t look like he’d cried, yet another talent from his father.

When he finally did get the phone out he stalled more, planning what he would say.  
‘Shit, I have no clue who I’m calling’ he thought too late.  
“Pidge here, what up?”

“It’s Keith, Keith from school?”

“Yeah, you okay? It’s like, really late”

“Yeah I’m fine, but,” he hesitated, he knew it was a bad idea, “but do you have Lance’s number?”  
~~~~~~~~~~

“Keith? Keith wake up” Lance was again using his mother’s tactics, a soft voice and a gentle shake. But nothing was stoping Keith from shooting up with a yelp.

“Hey! Hey take it easy!” Lance had yelled when Keith had flailed out. He was insanely strong, and fast. And crying?

“Keith!” Lance shouted about the craziness, getting a firm grip on the half sleeping teen. That did the trick and Keith had crumpled like a failed math quiz.

“I’m so sorry” he had sobbed.

“Please don’t hate me” he was pushing himself against the wall, pulling his knees in and blocking his face.

“Please don’t hit me.”

Lance couldn’t tell if the words had been whispered or shouted, thought or screamed. The shock knocked the breath out of him and the confusion knocked the idiot in.

“Why would I hit you?”

There was a long silence. Too long and too silent. Lance tried to chase away the silence either by counting but hadn’t been able to focus on anything but how hard Keith was shaking.

“Keith?”

That had stopped the shaking. But it also looked like it had stopped everything else.

“What?” Keith had snapped, whipping his head up, suddenly defensive, “What does a scum bag like you want? And why should it matter to me? You’ll get what you deserve.”

“I don’t- I don’t understand? Did I do something?” Lance’s voice was small, he had backed away from the bed and was reaching for the door. Ready to run.

“Oh,” And a look of first bewilderment, and then understand crossed Keith’s face, “oh my god Lance, no..” With this Keith reached out, searching once more. And Lance complied, he took a tender step forward, and when Keith’s had didn’t drop he took another.

“Lance please.. are you still there? Please don’t leave I’m sorry. I want to explain I do, but I can’t, but please just, I wasn’t talking to you I would never talk to you like that, I wouldn’t even-“

“You're rambling.” And with that he finally took Keith’s hand.

Keith gripped it tightly for a moment, then pulled Lance back onto the bed. Still holding Lance’s hand with one he reached out and touched his fingers to Lance’s face once more. He tried to remember how Lance had traced his cheeks, his neck, but he didn’t understand how Lance had made it so, so personal.

Lance waited for a second, trying to see if Keith would move, and closed his eyes when he did. This time he was calmer, more expectant of what was coming. Yet he still wasn’t prepared. Keith was moving so slowly, it felt like torture. So he opened his eyes.

Keith’s face was scrunched up in concentration, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and once again Lance felt the unstable urge to kiss him. So he did the one thing that could stop that. He opened his mouth.

Not the best idea since that’s there Keith’s fingers had been pressing. Lance had almost gagged with surprise and instant laughter at how stupid he was.  
  
Keith jerked his hand away and froze at Lance’s laughing. Was he laughing at him? He started to squeeze his hands into fist, to help keep the tears in but realized Lance’s hand was still in his. And the sudden pressure had stopped Lance cold.

“I’m sorry I’m just so dumb, I could feel my lip stinging and yet I completely overlooked where your finger might be.”

“Stinging?” Keith blurt, “what do you mean stinging?”

“Oh, um I chew on my lip sometimes, actually all the time these days, and it’s kinda torn up but it hardly hurts anymore.” Lance had hardly stopped talking when Keith’s fingers were back in his lips.

“Where?” And Lance froze, uncertainty clouding his vision. But his hand didn’t need his eyes to make its decision, and he was guiding Keith by the wrist to the worst part, the innermost left corner. That’s where the sting was most intense, and Lance closed his eyes against the feeling, stealing glances from under his eyelids.

“Kiss it better?” He had joked, ‘kiss our friendship goodbye?’ He had immediately thought after.

“What?” There was no disgust in his voice, no knife edge. Just confusion.

“Sorry Keith, I’m a flirt by habit.” ‘Nice save jackass.’

“Oh” was that disappointment? No of course not why would he be disappointed.

Lance felt numb, what was Keith thinking? What had he been thinking! ‘Oh right, you weren’t. Oh my god he’s gonna think I’m so desperate, he’s gonna think I’m trying to take advantage of a blind guy oh god! Why hast thou forsaken me!’ And then god really forsake him. Keith let his hand fall of his face and pulled the other one out of Lance’s numb limp hand.

There was an instant cold fire where his hand had once been. And a pit in his stomach where what was immense joy not even an hour a go had resigned, replaced by regret that clawed up his throat in the form of hot tears.

He fought them down and brought out his best, most charming voice.

“I’m gonna pour some cereal, you want some?” Keith shook his head.

“More for me!” Lance forced a smile into his voice and got up to cry in the kitchen instead, leaving Keith too hurt to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been like a long freaking time sense I’ve touched this and you know why? I threw myself into a new hobby, knitting and highkey? It’s ruining my life guess help. Sorry for such long notes lmao

**Author's Note:**

> What’s poppin YouTube I’m so sorry for this mess anyway yeah


End file.
